Return
by black.n.blu
Summary: Jordan is in an accident...again. How does this affect those around her? And more importantly: will she make it? One shot.


This is my third fanfic, and another one shot. I appreciate reviews, and don't be shy. Friendly criticism is welcome. I tried to write this in present tense, but I may have lapsed a little bit. Also, I had no idea what genre to make it, so I guessed. There is also a touch of spirituality...sorta. Tell me if you notice any mistakes! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan. Bet you've never heard that one huh?

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**Return**

**- Jordan -**

I drum my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, awaiting the moment when the glowing crimson of the light will turn green. I'm already late, and when the moment comes, finally, I pull my car quickly forward. I don't see the other car coming, the blur as it speeds past the same crimson that I had so recently tolerated. There is sound, movement, color, confusion, pain, blackness.

**- Garret -**

I look wearily at the sight in front of me. Two cars, so jumbled and crushed together that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. It's doubtful that anyone has survived this. One of the cars has been flipped, all of its windows are smashed, a tire punctured…is that blood? I sigh and pull out my phone, dialing Jordan's number. I hear a ring, but not simply from the device pressed to my ear, but a muffled one as well, coming from somewhere else. Odd…

I look around, trying to locate the source of the separate ring. My eyes meet the collision, and my heart stops. I break into a run, springing towards the flipped car, the car that I suddenly recognize. A phone sits ringing on the car's inside roof, speckled with red. I lift my eyes from the phone to its owner, her limp form covered in the same color.

"Good God…"

**- Woody -**

I sip my coffee, trying to keep my eyes open. Why doesn't this coffee help? Oh, right, it's decaf. Why did I get decaf again? I sigh and flip unenthusiastically through the giant pile of paperwork on my desk. I want to sleep so badly, and the continuous black and white scrawl of ink doesn't help. My phone rings. I reach over and pick it up.

"Hoyt," I say sleepily.

"Woody, it's Garret."

"Hey," I say. "What's up?"

"There's been an accident," he replies gravely. I groan.

"Now?" And I thought doing paperwork this late was bad.

"Yeah, and you better get to the hospital ASAP!" What's he talking about? My sleep-deprived brain works slowly, trying to process what he means. It snaps awake however as I put two and two together.

"Who?" I ask simply, though I know the answer.

"Jordan."

**-Nigel-**

Wind whips at the hair that sticks out of my helmet as I race my bike towards the hospital. Why, I wonder. Why do these things constantly happen to us? Kidnappings, shootings, crashes, bombs, viruses, accidents; it's like everything that could possibly go wrong in this world is determined to make themselves a part of our lives, aside from the victims that we work on every day. We've already lost people to these tragedies, and have had many close shaves, such as the train car that fell seconds after I stepped off, or the taxi that crashed when someone stole it from Dr. Macy.

And now I've just gotten a call from him telling me that we might lose Jordan as well. I'm praying for a miracle as I sit in the slow traffic. She just has to be alright. She's survived far too many things worse than an accident for her to die like this. Dr. Macy says that her car had been flipped, blood visible at a distance. I give a shudder that has nothing to do with the blast of cold wind greeting me as the traffic moves again. What I would give to take Jordan's place, for it to be me that was hit on the way home from work. True, on a motorcycle I would be easily killed, but it sounds as if it's doubtful that Jordan will survive anyways.

**- Lily -**

I sit in the waiting room with the others. Everyone is here; Garret, Woody, Bug, Max, and now Nigel has just arrived. He's pale, but then again, so are the rest of us. He takes a seat on the couch next to me.

"Have we heard anything?" he asks me quietly. I shake my head. Tears are falling rapidly down my cheeks. Nigel begins to cry silently also as he reaches over and takes my hand in his. I cling to it. We sit there for what seems like an age, until finally a door opens and a doctor comes out. Everyone is immediately out of their seats, questioning him about Jordan.

"She's alive," he says. "But we've done all we can. The rest is up to her." No one speaks for a moment. "Then she'll be alright," I say shakily. "She's a fighter." Some of those around me nod. "Can we see her?" I ask. The doctor nods. We follow him to her room and I give a gasp, barely audible, as I see her. There are wires and tubes everywhere. I pull one of the chairs up to her bedside and sit down, gingerly taking her hand. It's the one part of her that looks untouched. Her face is bruised and red. There is a large cut across one cheek and she has a black eye. Her neck also has a number of small cuts and bruises. The arm on her side opposite me is heavily bandaged, and no skin on her hand is visible. The heart monitor beeps behind me. It's annoying, and yet I am thankful for each beep, each beat of Jordan's heart. She will not pull through this easily.

**- Bug -**

I sit in one of the chairs across from her bed, looking on and yet not really seeing her. I'm staring into space, thinking. I'm also alone; the others are back at their jobs. We've decided that someone should be with her at all times, waiting to pick up the phone the moment she awakens. Max is due to arrive any minute now. She's so fragile looking, so helpless. Jordan is almost never helpless. She's always so strong and independent, and she's the bravest of any at the morgue. To see her like this is unsettling to say the least.

Garret and I are the only two that haven't cried. Lily, Nigel, Max, and Woody have all shed tears at some point. I found that I couldn't even if I had wanted to, and I know that Dr. Macy is too strong. He won't break down in front of us. It's understandable for Max to cry, even if I've never seen him do it before. He's possibly losing his only daughter, and it would be too much after the death of his wife. Though Woody and Jordan are no longer a couple, they're still good friends and he still cares for her. She and Nigel are practically brother and sister, though I have a suspicion that he wishes they were more than that. Lily of course would cry no matter who was hurt. She's caring like that.

The door opens to my right and I turn to see Max walking in. I stand up. We make eye contact before I leave, telling him silently that nothing has happened, nothing has changed.

**- Max -**

I take the seat next to her bed. She looks so weak, and I feel my eyes begin to water again. I take her good hand in mine, the hand that has neither a cut nor a bruise to be seen, and squeeze it gently. She's my little girl, my Jordan, and I can't imagine losing her.

"You gotta fight this Jordan," I say, though I don't know if she can hear me. "You gotta pull through. I've already lost Emily, I'm not gonna lose you too. I need you in my life." I squeeze her hand again, and then jump as I feel a squeeze in return. "Jordan," I say, "c'mon sweetie. You can do this. You can fight it." Her eyelids flutter slightly, and then open.

"Daddy," she says softly.

"I'm here Jordan."

She smiles weakly. "Mom says hi."

**- The End - **


End file.
